Angel Files
by Natasha-Tenshi
Summary: A bit more information about the abilities of an Angel. Set between books three and four of A Thousand Possible Paths Series. A miscalculation brings Natasha to.. An Amish community..? Join our lovely little spitfire as she gives a little hope to a pack of Underground wolves. Not that she ever had a problem with them. In fact.. Some were downright adorable...
1. Chapter 1

She wasn't sure what in Sam's hell had possessed her to block that _Semper_ from stabbing Arrow- she damn well knew he had it under control- but no.. She'd stepped in, like some self-righteous moron. She hadn't felt any physical pain, per say, it felt more like being torn from the inside out..

That's what happens when a soul weapon hits your heart..

Well..

Now she knew..

She grunted softly from her place on what she assumed was the ground. It felt like a stone walkway, if she guessed, the gritty feeling of rocks and the somewhat sour smell of the air around her scaring her more than just silence. And that was saying something...

It took her several minutes to calm the agonizing burn that slid through her torso, her eyes flinching when they strained, and finally fluttered open. She was almost half tempted to close them when she met sight with only darkness. She could make out vague shapes in the black around her, what looked like buildings, and large walls of stone.. The ceiling was much to high for her to see, but there was an inky sort of blackness that kept her from wanting to. Everything smelled old and damp, and vaguely of sour milk or trash.

She slowly took a moment to sit up from the ground, glaring around her vaguely before she focused on her hearing. There were no nearby voices, and she couldn't sense any nearby souls. She groaned a little in fatigue as she lifted her hands, using her knuckles to grit at her eyes, however, when small, pudgy stumps greeted her line of sight, she stilled, eyes popping open as she glared down at... her... hands...

They were... a lot smaller than she remembered...

 _Did they always look like an infants..?_

It took her another few minutes to find the energy to get to her knees, crawling slowly along the dirt before she set out to find a less open place..

Who knew what lurked in the darkness around her...

Off in the distance, she could hear drunken ramblings, occasional fights, loud, strained laughter, shouting, and noise. There was little light, but what was provided came in the form of streetlight candles, lining a musty cobble road. There were only-western styled buildings of stone and wood, signs with a foreign language immediately translating into things like Tavern or Brothel or Pawn shoppe. It was enough to make her flinch.

It took her a few precious seconds to slip into a nearby alley, calming her frantic heartbeat enough to take inventory.

Okay.. Arrow was gone.

 _Fuck, that wasn't good. What else?_

She had her previous clothes, apparently.. The once tight, long sleeve black turtleneck now almost a knee-length dress, the sleeves trailing well past her hands and brushing the ground. First things first, she rolled up the sleeves, and glared at her already previously overly large trousers, but she was now _swimming in_ her cargo pants with obvious distaste, the only thing keeping them on her body was the thick, black leather belt. Her boots were gone, not that she as surprised, she could probably fit her fairy feet into a cup measure now.. They were never large to begin with.

Her necklace had stayed, much to her shock, but, overly shocking, was the golden pocket watch now tucked into her cargo pants pocket. A quick flick of the wrist opened it, and she was met face to face with the rippling opal "mirror" on the top section. Her _Travel_ watch survived, then.. At least that meant she wasn't _completely_ dead.. Speaking of.. Arrow had a bit of explaining to do... He'd said a _Semper_ knife killed angels.. but if that was a _Semper_ in Sythe's hand.. Then..

Why was she still alive..?

 _No._

 _Don't even think about it._

 _Focus on the now_.

Natasha took a deep calming breath, before she braced herself. She was going to need to find a safe place to rest for a while... The things she'd need to _Create_ would no doubt drain her already fatigued body to it's limit.. It didn't help that she probably looked four, either.. She _felt_ four, that's for sure.. Just without the limitless supply of energy she had at that age..

A quick peek along the mouth of the disgustingly filthy alley gave way to her fears.

Wherever she was, the technology was far from being up to her standards. The roads were lined with dingy sorts of wares carts and large crates, some abandoned, others filled with things she could only guess. The only light sources she could find came from lamp posts with candles or torches on walls. It almost looked to be late seventeenth-early eighteenth century-type clothing and surroundings..

She was scared to see the bathrooms...

Taking a final, bracing breath, the teen- now child- squared her shoulders, clenching her jaw as she flicked her fingers in a snap. Once. Twice. Three times.

Once for a messenger bag, once to change clothes, and once to make a mirror.

Her fears were confirmed.

She flicked her wrist, and the mirror disappeared taking the dirty, golden-eyed, pale skinned, silver-haired four-year old reflection with it. Unable to do much about her physical body (Damn Arrow and his quantum theories) She made do with tugging a large hooded, but child-sized cloak around her body, the cape piece low enough to barely brush the ground, but the hood large enough and thick enough to hide her hair and eyes. She took a moment to tie back her hair, check her runnable black kids sneakers, the now yoga-like black pants, and the thick turtleneck grey sweater.

Black gloves practically molded to her hands encased her fingers, and she tucked the bag beneath her cloak, keeping it close to her side before she left the darkened hole of an alley.

She slipped past the oblivious drunks who trickled around the streets, slipping through the muddled crowds of displeased citizens, and avoided the brothels at all costs.

Just because she was small did _not_ mean she would be put on the black market..

It was then that she saw it.

That annoying, yet symbolic shield on the back of a pudgy-man's jacket..

The blue unicorn.

She wanted to throw up.

* * *

Two days of walking brought her immeasurable fatigue and severe headaches.. Having to create her food and no energy-reviving sleep was putting a serious tole on her psych right now..

Two days of walking also brought her about ten attempted muggings, often by other, starving children (who she promptly set straight with a thwack to the head and, if she found the need to, handed them clothes and food she had "stored" in her bag, on the condition that they tone it down with the violence and gave her their names.)

She made a few friends, at least.

Two days of walking gave her about thirty homeless dogs, at least twice as many cats, (Taking time to give eat a large share of created meat) and hundreds and hundreds of human glares..

At least, she surmised, she would be safe, so long as she kept her guard up.

Something that was getting harder and harder to do-

"Hey, you brat-!"

She flinched in her steps, turning her head just enough to see a pot-belied Military Officer shoot her a death-glare. Not good. She turned on her heel and continued to walk, albeit a bit faster, this time.

"Yes, _you_ , brat-! Get back here-!"

Rather than running like a fugitive, she decided to see where it went, stopping in her tracks just long enough before facing the now stalking forward male. He looked about late thirties, but looks could be deceiving. _He could be fifty.._

"Yes sir?" she asked politely, keeping her voice low and well mannered. The man eyed her shrewdly, looking her up and down with obvious disgust. He had his fat, pudgy hands fisted at his sides, where two long, box-like contraptions sat, and if she were to circle him, she'd be able to see the cylindrical fan at the small of his back.

"Who the hell do you think you are, brat?" he spat, nearly hitting her shoes, had she not hopped-back pre-spit. "I saw you handing off that meat to those street rats- where the hell did you get it-?!"

 _Oh shit..._

She forgot meat was rare.

 _Fuck me._

"My daddy gave it to me," she answered in her best, clueless, innocent voice. He didn't look any nicer, unfortunately. "Yeah," he hissed, bending over so he was closer to her, and she could smell his rancid breath, mixed with alcohol, "And where did _he_ get it..?"

"The market," she tilted her head, watching as his eye twitched. There was about a sixty-two percent chance he was going to swing at her, and she acted accordingly, she may as well make the best of it, yeah? "Isn't that where you get your meat, officer..?" _She couldn't resist.._ "Or did you spend all our wasted tax money we give your fat-asses to buy more booze..?"

He stilled, looking at her with rigid shock, before he swung his inebriated arm forward, either to hit, or grab, she was unaware, but acted on the assumption that she should and would definitely-

 _RUN-!_

The bolted in the opposite direction like Bao was on her heels, her eyes wide as she hopped over crates and side-stepped the filthy street-walkers. She'd heard his enraged shout, followed by several more nearby, and she was now in a very dangerous situation..

Getting chased by about five people...

In the Underground of Wall _Sina_...

 _OH FUCK._

* * *

Farlan wasn't honestly prepared to see what he had at the "market" that day..

Sure, he'd seen orphans getting chased by Military police or by shop owners before.. He'd seen them publicly humiliated or beaten.. No, what surprised him was the large number of Military police that were following just _a single child_.. Said child being about up to his thigh, if that, and vaulting over things like a trained animal.

His eyes followed the small black blur as it vaulted over crates, slipped through crowds and, he noted, managed to spring from a cart top onto a cloth roof.

He watched the child waver for a moment, turning their eyes back to watch the drunken, slightly sober, scrambling men try to cut through the masses, and, he watched, with a slight smile on his lips, holding in his laughter, as the child swung the cape aside, presenting their backside and tapping it mockingly, before hooking their hands to the building, and starting to climb.

That wasn't a good move on their part, he idly mused, watching as the Military police managed to get in an open enough space to shoot their maneuver gear into the lines of buildings, the whistling of the wires jarring faint surprise onto the child's face, before it twisted into a cruel smirk.

He almost felt a hint of fear at that look. Sticking to the shadows, he brought his own gear out to shoot into a nearby alley, poking his head around the stone to watch as the child jumped and twisted around smoke pipes and stone. He could see the Military swinging nearby, blood lust in their eyes as they tried to follow, but the ducking and weaving increased as they swooped down to catch him.

He watched the child jump, his jaw falling slack as the child twisted midair, turning just enough so that their eyes were on the swooping solider. A small foot connected with a stubble-smattered face, and the officer was sent careening to the side, hooks flailing as the child ducked from another swoop, and began running again. Rather than reaching the end of the roof and backtracking, like he imagined, his muscles tensed as the child took a running leap off of it and into another alley. Unprepared for the sudden dive, the Military had to double back after several blocks, but by the time they returned, only their enraged shouting could be heard.

They were not pleased.

With a long, strained sigh, he shook his head, spinning on his heel to go back to the mouth of the alley. However, he stumbled a bit, looking down with a sudden jerk to see a small boy standing in front of him, barely reaching his thighs as they played with the end of his maneuver gear. He binked slowly down at the small child, who seemed to have paused their inspection to crane their neck up at him. His eyebrows raised slowly, his body stilling completely while they held each other in a stare down.

For several moments, it was absolutely silent, until the smallest twitch of the lips, and he watched as the child started to chuckle, then slowly giggle, before full-blown laughing.

"D-Did you see that-?!" he burst out in front of him, doubling over as he held their gut in their little arms, "T-.. They hit the roofs like- _Poof_ \- and- and that other guy went - _THWACK_ -! And-And-!" The child cut into veracious laughter again, and he took his time to study them, crouching down so he was closer to their height as they huddled near the black market.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked slowly, watching as the boy slowly calmed, and gave him a bright grin, "Can't tell ya."

He was surprised, but not as much as he should be, "And why not?"

"Because I don't know yours," he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "You're a stranger-!"

"I _could_ hand you over to the Military police," he said in a slightly teasing tone, "They could find your parents for you."

"But you wont," they sounded smug, and he almost backtracked at the pure look of irony on their face. deep-set golden eyes watching him fiercely.

"And why not..?" he asked slowly, cautiously, as he watched them fold their arms over their chests.

"Because that's as good as turning _yourself_ in, stupid," the kid rolled his eyes, and he flinched, watching wide-eyed as the kid pulled a bag out from beneath their thick black cloak, opening the flap and digging though it with concentration, the their body blocked him from risking a peak inside. "That gear is for Military officials, only. You stole it, didn't you..?"

"How would you know if I'm not from the Military?" he asked almost curiously, this kid was weird.. and weirder than _Underground kid_ weird..

"You talk about the Military as if in third person," they eyed him with an intensity that almost had him swallowing spit, "This would mean you'd be out of uniform with gear, which is prohibited..." They leaned forward, and in their outstretched hand, they held a large, shiny red apple out to the blonde, his eyebrows long since in his hairline as he watched them offer the rare fruit. "Not to mention you were hiding from them.."

"How do you know I was hiding from them," he eyed him with suspicion now.

"I didn't until you confirmed it," the kid suddenly chirped, and the expression fell from his face. His face dull and deadpanned, he watched the kid toss the apple lightly in the air. He was tempted to catch it from hitting the ground, but they caught it, however, and he continued to watch them play with the rare fruit. Had he not been watching it so intensely, he would have dropped it when it was tossed to him, his fingers clasping around the bright red fruit before he darted his eyes back to the kid, who was now looking at some shiny, golden pocket watch.

The brief estimate of the object had him wondering about it's origin and value, but a look at the scornful expression the child directed at it had him pausing. It probably didn't even work.

"Well," the kid looked up, closing the watch with a flick of their wrist and eyeing the blonde coolly, "Are you gonna eat it or not..?"

He blinked at the kid slowly, before trailing his eyes to the fruit. "How do I know you didn't poison it..?"

"If I wanted you dead you'd be dead," the child blinked, completely at ease with the statement, while he tensed, "And I would hope it wasn't poisonous, I've had about nine in the last two days.."

" _How_."

He was watching her intently, now, any fruit that found it's way to the Underground vendors was usually already bruised, or close to becoming spoiled, though this one looked absolutely fresh, or "just picked" like Isabel called them. How could this kid have so many-

"I have meat, too," the kid offered casually, their expression calm, "I could share if you like. It's not hard to have more."

And this kid was officially insane.

"Where do you get this stuff..?" he asked slowly, watching as they merely smiled, and kept quiet, watching him with an innocent expression he now confirmed to be false. This kid was dangerous.. but still..

"I'm Farlan."

The kid looked shocked by the revelation, eyeing him with obvious surprise, as if they suspected he wouldn't tell them. After a few moments, the kid smiled, holding out a gloved hand with a sloppy grin.

"Nice to meet you, Farlan, my name's Natasha."

* * *

 **ANGEL CASE FILES**

 _FILE #1_

 _SEMPERS_

Semper- Latin for Evermore-

Semper- An angelic blade gifted to angels upon first creation, though unlocked through special riTe of passage to be able to summon freely. Semper's are the _only_ weapons able to kill both angels, and fallen angels, but they do have the ability to act as regular weapons to the supernatural with similar effects.

Semper weapons are only able to be used b their wielder, as they are extensions of an angel's soul.

Semper's do not physically harm the body. They merely bright the intended amount of damage physically into the spiritual aspect of a human.

Example, if an angel were to stab the heart of a victim, the physical heart would be untouched, but the soul would die.

If an angel were to cut off a victim's hand, the blade would phase through the wrist, not affecting the body, but draw pain to the soul. Bringing the desired amount of pain or disuse.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha walked along the cobblestone streets with a soft whistled tune on her lips, her aura relaxed as she skipped along the stones. Her bag was slightly weighed at her hip, but the smugness on her face was unable to be masked. She had beaten the system. Why hadn't she thought of it before..?

Rather than wasting energy with each and every little thing she _Created_ , why not just make a _bag_ that did it _on its own?_

Sometimes she wondered why she didn't think of things like this sooner...

So she continued to whistle as she wandered.

* * *

She should really stop antagonizing the Military police...

* * *

Farlan's ears perked up at the sound of another familiar stampede of Military ruckus. His eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden dash of black, and he snapped his eyes to attention, the red-headed female at his side craning on her toes to see as well. The fight once again remained near the black market, the dart of black weaving around legs and jumping over others who refused to jump out of the fray.

Farlan smothered a laugh when a military pig toppled over a cart of near rotten cabbages, his friends tripping over him, but continuing to run, leaving their "friend" with a face full of greens and a pissed vendor. Isabel was openly laughing at his side, shaking with laughter and watching the display with obvious enthrallment.

" _Miss me-! Miss me-! But you'll never kiss me_ -!" The child was bubbling over in laughter as they passed right between Farlan and Isabel, pausing only a split second to lock eyes with the blonde male before turning back to their path. He planted one foot on the stall as he ran, using her momentum to flip into the air, landing on top of a vendor cart. She plucked a spoiled cabbage from the cart, flashing a grin before he threw it on the air. His hidden arm swung up, an Farlan saw the large length of a pipe slip out of the child's cloak, before it swung around sharply, the pipe hitting the cabbage and sending it straight into the face of the nearest member of the MP stampede. Said male stumbled at the sudden projectile, hitting the ground with a cry as his "friends" knocked into him, sending them all tumbling to the ground.

A large number of he underground drunks started laughing as well, and Isabel wasn't alone as her brother joined her. The two nearly doubled over as they turned to look toward the child, sightly surprised to see the space empty, and the child gone.

* * *

Isabel hopped from one block to the next as her brother jogged steadily behind her. Big Bro was expecting them soon, but she didn't want to let the chance slip.

"Did you even _see_ that kid-?!" she exclaimed, for likely the third time, as she frantically raked he eyes through alleys and past un-concealed windows, "You'd think he'd been trained as a fighter since he would crawl-!"

"I've met the kid," he admit after a hesitant pause, and the maroon haired female snapped her eyes to him in almost accusation towards the lack of information, "Easy-! Aright-! I wouldn't put it past your theory, though.. They managed to sneak up on me while the MPs were scouting for him.. He's the one that gave me that apple I brought the other day..."

"Where in the hell did he get a fresh apple-?" she sounded reasonably stunned. Fruit like that was hard to come by _anywhere_.. Nevermind a _kid_ swiping one and _giving it away_...

"Said his name is Natasha," he offered calmly, flicking his eyes from one thing to the next with rapid awareness. Something one must have should they take up maneuvering gear. "He's pretty cunning, too.."

"Coming from you," Isabel snorted, and he almost cracked a smile, "that was almost a compliment."

"You're just trying to sound cool again."

"Farlan-!"

Had they taken the right path instead of the left at the next fork in the road, they would have been able to see the white blur dart from the inky blackness above and land swiftly on a rooftop, a pool of gold atop their head and a bundle of grey cloth in their arms.

* * *

" _REN_ -!"

The four-year-old-appearance-wise girl practically tackled the small navy blue dog upon sight. The sudden decrease in size making him nearly to her knees in height. The grey blanket that had been wrapped around him for protection was tossed to the side without a care, the girl's arms winding tightly around her AI with a desperation one shows to reunited family members.

"Are you okay?" she whimpered, her emotions straining to remain in check as salt stung at her eyes, and her face flushed in relief and joy, "Do you have any bugs? Any viruses? Malfunctioning hardware _or_ software-?"

"I'll do a scan now," the smooth, robot male voice answered calmly, his head nudging at her chin gently as he bowed into her arms, cuddling back as much as he was able, "You have been safe, I hope."

"Unfortunately, I've been put in the body of a four-year-old.. and.." she trailed off slowly, cautious as she eyed the tall, blonde haired man just five feet away. His skin was tanned to a deep, golden glow, his hair giving the impression of spun gold, with the occasional, small braid against the waves of silk that pooled at his shoulders. His suit was of whites and creme outlines, his gloves a matching white, while his crucifix shined gold and his shoes shined black.

"I _may_.. or _may not_ be routinely pissing off the local authorities..."

Arrow's grating silence was enough of a reprimand.

"I'm not gonna stop," she pouted defiantly into the archangel's emerald green eyes, her own golden orbs sparking with fire, "They deserve it for trying to falsely accuse me of theft."

"Scan complete," Rem toned with perfect timing, however she was less than happy with the results. "There are two hardware issues, and four small viruses." "Thankfully skipped three, then," she chuckled dryly, trying to lighten the mood before she stood on her feet, tucking the AI to her chest as she buried her nose in the soft, familiar blue fur of her companion. His collar clicked softly with the movement as she stood, wrapping the blanket around him protectively once more, while Rem stayed silent as she began to jog to the edge of the roof.

Natasha took a deep breath in of the damp air before scanning the streets. She needed to find a place she could pass out in, and, considering Arrow was with her, she'd also need to be able to be in a decently safe neighborhood. She merely stood on the edge of the building, her toes peaking over the lining as she drifted into a daze. Her thoughts swarming with a possible checklist.

* * *

"We've already been out longer than we should have," Farlan warned Isabel as they doubled back towards the market. Levi was going to kill him. "Levi's gonna ask what we were screwing around doing and _you_ are going to answer him."

"Me-?" she sounded affronted, eyeing him with incredulous eyes, " _You're_ the one who met the kid-! What would I even say-?"

"Oh I don't know," Farlan rolled his eyes, more playful than mocking, and his voice toned higher to imitate hers, "How about "I'm sorry Levi-bro, but I dragged Farlan along with me because I was too busy trying to find the kid who outran a bunch of MP's and wound up"-"

" _Jumping off a building_ -!"

Isabel cut him off sharply, and he eyed her with sudden apprehension, he opened his mouth to speak, but her sharp jab to his side and her pointing hand were the only warnings he got before she took off quickly further up the road. He turned his head quickly to see further up the road, his blood freeing in his veins before he, too, took off running.

A small, black cloak was fluttering upward with gravity, a smaller body curled up as it plummeted toward the ground off of the three story ledge.

He watched Isabel shoot out with her gear first, the cables fling with an audible whistle as one connected with the wall in front of her, just feet from the kid, the other hitting the wall a good several meters out.

What surprised him, however, was the sudden, mangled screams that came from both child and woman as Isabel reached the kid, who, at some point, had attached herself to the wall directly beside the hook closest to him.

Isabel released the left cable, much to his surprise, and fell, with the child in her arms, toward the ground, the second hook catching their fall and sending her in an arch toward another building. He watched her hit the brick, back first, curled protectively around the kid before they tumbled the last ten feet to the ground.

It was a matter of seconds before he was in front of her, his voice strained but authoritative as he skid to her side. "Isabel-! hat the hell happened-?" Her face was horrified, he realized as she sat on her knees, hunched over the body and crouched over the now torn black cloak. He opened his mouth to reprimand her brash actions, but the sight of thick, blackish red substance spilling out from beneath the cloak, he caught the words in his throat.

He'd seen that liquid enough times to know what it was.

The only coherent sentence he could manage was "Let's get him back, quick."

Her wing was torn

FFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKK

Her WING.

Was TORN.

IT HAD A FUCKING HOLE IN IT-

"AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH-!"

The loud, pained cry of a four-year-old filled the night as the spiritually invisible wings retracted, leaving her with an aching gash in her back.. if Arrow didn't return soon to patch it up..

Could angels die of blood loss...?

She prayed to her creator, not.

* * *

Isabel had been in too much of a shock to carry the kid, so Farlan was dubbed temporary guardian as he held one child in his left arm and forced Isabel along with his right. IF they kept that pace they'd make it back to the house in twenty minutes-

" _AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH_ "

H flinched at the loud cry on his left, awkwardly pulling the injured child closer, ignoring the strange weight pressed against his side. The child was holding a bundle of something, but he didn't have time to check it out on site- there were more important things to do.

"Damnit, Isabel, snap out of it-!" He practically spat the words as he tried to pick up the speed. It seemed to do the trick, because after a few seconds, she had retched her arm away, and was running at pace with him, an almost scary look of determination on her face.

* * *

"Where the hell have you-"

Levi's question wasn't at the top of his priorities, but it seemed Isabel had a more acute idea of the situation.

"Not now, Bro-!"

The raven stepped out of the was sharply after Isabel had practically barreled her way into the house, disregarding Levi's rule for shoes to be left at the door, and stumbling for the kitchen-type area, where a med-kit would be.

Levi only had to look at Farlan and his new cargo to keep quiet about the rule.

"What happened?" he asked firmly, and there was a strange calm there that eased away a bit of Farlan's adrenaline, slowing down his rushing blood and relaxing him as he sighed, the bundle in his arms now silent

"We.. we saw him jumping off a building- Isabel went to grab him and the next thing we knew he'd been stuck to the wall- I think Isabel got him with one of the hooks, but I can't be sure.." The steel eyed man eyed the blonde quietly for a moment, before turning to open the door wider, "Hurry it up, and try not to track in the blood.."

Isabel returned briefly with bandages and some of Levi's cleaning agents (much to the raven's annoyance) and Farlan lied out the child on the flooring, using one of the older sheets as a surface an tugging at the child's arms. He freed the bundle of grey fabric with little resistance, setting it aside for later and glancing to the side, where Isabel fidgeted nervously while Levi set things out more meticulously. Said male sent him a sharp look, clearly stating they weren't done with the previous conversation, "Where did he get hurt? Show it to me."

Farlan gave him a brief nod, and started unlacing the hood from the kid's throat, pulling the fabric down from their head and inhaling sharply at the sight of bright, white colored hair. White was color rarely found down here.. Let alone white _hair_..

Isabel seemed just as curious as she was anxious, her shoulders tensed as she fiddled with her fingers. Levi brushed past Farlan when he'd gone no further, moving his hands down and tearing the shirt off of the child's chest. Seeing nothing wrong from the perpetually flat surface, he moved to grab he child's sholders, lifting carefully just an inch off of the ground, only for wide, golden eyes to pop open, and a loud, pained howl leave their dry, pink lips.

Levi jerked once in surprise, but continued to move them, just able to turn them over, despite their now tear-filled creams, to peal away the grey-turned-black-red fabric from their back. The entire of what should be pale skin was soaked in red, an Isabel looked almost ready to choke. Levi immediately reached for a rag, dipping it in the wooden bucket and immediately setting to clean away the blood, starting from the shoulders down. The child screamed when he'd gotten to mid back, louder and sharper as they started trying the thrash themselves away, but a sharp order from Levi had Isabel pinning their arms and Farlan holding their knees.

When the majority of the child's back was clean, Levi was left to stop and stare at the wound-less-surface, his body frozen almost statue-like as he watched blood seep evenly out of the child's skin. ...There were no wounds...

 _There were no wounds._

The blood seemed to spill out of their back in an almost diagonal line along the right side of their back, a strained, agonized cry leaving the child's now sore throat as he continued to clean away the returning liquid after a long pause. Isabel looked just as, f not more so surprised, but Farlan was gritting his teeth in anxiety. Just what the hell was going on?

" _S-.. Sew.."_

The word was soft, and croaked from the child's lips, but the raven's rained hearing picked it up. He pressed the now bloodied rag onto the bleeding without cause area, before bending over slightly, his voice monotone, but low enough to portray his confusion about the issue. "What was that?"

" _Can you sew_..?" The child spoke again, the clear measure of pain pushed into each word that they'd grit from between their teeth, " _My wing.. is torn_..."

* * *

 **ANGEL CASE FILES**

 _File #2_

 _WINGS_

 _Not all angels begin with wings._

 _Original angels were created with wings already fully intact, however, a newer angel, or creation, must earn their angelic privileges through rites of passage. Including, but not limited to; Dream manipulation, summoning, flying, and the ability to communicate with any living or non-living soul._


	3. Chapter 3

"People don't have wings, kid," the short, but taller-than-them male replied dryly, his eyes clearly calling bullshit, "I think you lost too much blood-"

"DON'T TELL ME I'M FUCKING CRAZY WHEN I'M IN FUCKING PAIN-!" The child nearly roared compared to their earlier crying, and the raven sent her a sharp, but surprised look, and the child continued, their eyes filled with tears, but notably angry, "AND WHY THE HELL DID YOU RIP MY SHIRT, HUH?! I HAPPENED TO LIKE THAT ONE-! AND ON ANOTHER NOTE-" the stopped screaming all together, and stilled, their shoulders adopting a large, steady tremble as they choked, coughing slightly before hacking up a mouthful of blood. They managed to swallow the majority of it, but a trickle left the corner of their mouth, sliding towards their chin as a small, shaky hand, still stuck in gloves, raised to smear it down their jaw.

"Fucking hell.." the child hissed, sounding more like an adult than a child before pinning the ever-watchful raven haired male with a steady glare, "Can you _sew_ or _not.."_ Farlan glanced between the two shortest people as he watched the heavy air. Isabel sat silently on the sidelines beside him, but he saw her eyes trailing to the package he'd set away from them, his own eyes catching sight of something small and blue flicking out of the flap, and disappearing, as if twitching.

"I can sew," the raven's monotone was, low, and slightly annoyed, but the other two kept out of it, sharing a look as they creeped closer to the bundle.

The child clicked their teeth, sitting up hesitantly onto their knees, despite the obvious pain, and rolled their shoulders, giving him a look that was clearly condescending, "Don't scream and I might pay you for helping me out.."

"I don't scream," the raven had the audacity to scoff, now more than ever with that 'I call bullshit' look on his face. The child really didn't like that look.

"Fine then," the kid seemed to smile, though it was more of a grimace, before they shifted their stance, struggling to lay down on their stomache, using their arms as a pillow so their back was presented to the room, closing their eyes briefly in pain before speaking, their voice almost slurred, "Just dont freak out."

No sooner had they said that did blood seem to explode from the right side of their back, flying out into the air as if they were shot, but halting mid air, and slowly dripping down, as if they had hit something, wrapping around it and dripping slowly toward the floor in little rivers of blackish-red.

Isabel passed out.

Farlan choked.

Levi stared.

"Either get the shit to sew it up or give me the shit to do it myself," the child seemed to dart their eyes out to the adults, before glaring at the stone-like raven, "Thought you weren't gonna get _scared_ , doll-face."

"Don't call me doll-face,"" the man glared sharply at the child, his hand freezing midair as he reached toward what looked like a spindly tree of blood sprouting from their back. However, when he reached toward it's edge, his hand still midair, and no where near the blood, he felt something soft envelope his fingers. Soft and warm.

He withdrew his arm sharply, and the child hissed, sending him a glare worthy of his own.

"Stop _fucking with my feathers_ and get over with it-!" the kid snapped, screwing their eyes shut as they bowed their head into their arms, their voice muffled from their position, "I wouldn't be in this fucking mess if that chick hadn't _pierced my fucking wing with that deathtrap._ I AM IN PAIN, IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY COME TO THIS CONCLUSION YOURSELF. MY _GOD_ \- NOT EVEN SAEYOUNG WAS _THIS_ MUCH OF A PRICK-! AT LEAST HE GAVE ME _MORPHINE_ -!"

"Shut up," the male snapped, holding out a hand to grasp the back of the kids neck, not completely at ease with touching them, but more concerned with stopping the blood that was ruining his clean floors. "Where the hell is the wound, I can't even see these so called 'wings' of yours.."

"Upper arch," the child grit, clenching their teeth as more blood seeped down toward the floor in what, to him, looked like slow-motion, but, after a moment of observation, started t reveal blood-soaked feathers.. Large ones, almost the size of his forearm, thick and shaped with blood, but otherwise invisible.

He then got an idea, a sick one, that, after, would require him to thoroughly scrub his hands, but if it meant getting this brat off of his ass sooner, so be it.

His hand found the base of their back, reaching his fingers, now coated in blood, around until a thick, warm muscle twitched beneath hi touch. He flinched, but grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he coated the blood around the muscle, painting it up and out as he felt up the soft, twitching limb. It took several minutes to gather enough dripping blood to paint the entire base of it, but by the time he'd felt up the entire, pained limb, he managed to draw enough hisses from the child to rival a diseased cat, and painted out a demonic, blood red wing.

It was the shape of an angels, he would give it that, but painted a sickly blood color, with a stench to match, he was no where near being in awe. He moved to clean his hands in the wooden wash bin quickly, before moving to thread the needle, chancing a glance to his siblings to see Farlan with Isabel supported in his lap, her eyes turned up in a faint and the blonde looking ready to loose his breakfast.

Assuming the thread was sterile, he wouldn't put it back in the medical kit otherwise, he hated the needle over a nearby sconce, letting it sit over the flame briefly, before threading the knotting the thread, and moving back to the kid.

"This is going to hurt," he warned solemnly, watching the child's shoulder's tense, though their words were more sarcastic than anything. "Is that so~? I'll keep that in mind.."

"I might enjoy sticking this thing in you if you keep that up," he warned in a low voice, his eyes narrowing in on the now obvious split through the arch of the wing, the upper muscle more fur than it was feathers. he cleaned out the wound as best he could without making it disappear, before lining up the needle, and settling into a pattern.

The kid was silent through the process, not another word or sound out of their mouth, though he could see their shoulders tensing with strain, and the occasional tap of their fingers on the wood.

Twenty minutes passed, and he waited until he'd tugged the wound completely closed, before sighing, tossing the bloodied needle into the pile of need-to-be-cleaned tools, moving first to clean his hands in the soiled water, before grabbing a clean rag with only a drop of blood from the original explosion. "Hold still.. I have to clean that shit off."

"Thank you.."

The words were unexpected, and he paused his trek to get clean water to give them a look. "Don't get used to it, brat."

"I'll be out of your hair, soon enough, Captain," she child seemed to grin then, a taunting smile that sent him both annoyed and curiously cautious. They had said it so patronizingly.

"Whatever," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned to leave the room, out the door in search for the well.

* * *

"Ren," Natasha called out cautiously, watching the blonde in the corner eye her warily, clearly spooked and unable to understand. He titled his head, dusty green eyes watching her intently, "What..?"

"Ren-!" the girl called again, this time, more level, and comanding, "It's safe to come out, they didn't hurt me, and they won't hurt you."

The bundle at his side moved, and Farlan nearly scrambled to his feet, watching as a.. Dog... popped it's head out of the bundle and struggled out of the grey wrap. It freed itself, then practically scrambled toward the small child, however, instead of barking, or jumping to lick the child, it plopped itself in front of him, ears lowered and its head following suit as it sat silent.

"Poor boy," the child sighed, shaking his head as he glared at him, "Why didn't you tell me your speaker was broken? Did you force yourself to tell me earlier?" The dog finally made a sound, but rather than a whimper or a bark, Farlan tensed when it let out a shrill, metallic-sounding groan. He hovered over the silent Isabel, his eyes trained on the child as they gingerly sat up, the bloody appendage shaped on his back trailing along the floor, almost, if not bigger, than the child themselves, and shrugged into a cross-legged position.

The child was angled toward Farlan now, patting their lap so the dog could crawl into it, resting it's head onto their knee and its tail on the opposite.

What scared him was the kid pulling a large portion of fur from it's back.

"Hey-!" he started to shout, but stopped when the child seemed to pull out some sort of thick, stick like tool, the end of it glowing a faint blue. He swallowed when the child looked over to him, eyebrows raised in question, before returning to the dog.

Farlan's eyes darted down to the dog, who seemed no way in pain, his eye brows furrowing in painful confusion as he watched the child inspect what looked like a mess of metal gears and what looked like tiny ropes inside the dogs body.

He wanted to throw up..

He was on the verge of it earlier, but..

He was out the door in seconds.

* * *

Levi stepped back sharply as Farlan burst into the hallway, just making it to a window before he let his breakfast reappear and end up in the alley. The raven eyed him with slight concern, frowning at the corner of his mouth before returning to their one roomed apartment.

He set the bucket down before he noticed the child was sitting up. Followed closely by realization of an animal, and sight of metal.

He dropped the rag into the bucket with a small splash, and the small head turned, the wispy, white locks barely curling around their ears and neck as they eyed him with faint curiosity.

He simply stared.

Several moments pass, before he found the words, the sudden uttering of low, annoyed syllables sending a jolt through the child.

"Where in the hell did you get a dog?"

"The dog is what you question about this entire situation?" they eyed him as if he were a moron, and he nearly had the thought to strangle them. However, the brief flash of metal, gave way to a longer, more thorough realization that it was _inside the dog_ -

"What the hell did you do to that mutt?"

"Ren is a purebred Pomeranian," he kid sniffed, glaring at him with all the sass of a teenage child from the Aboveground Sina, "He's also a robot."

"What is a.. Row-bot..?" he tested the unfamiliar word strangely, his eyes narrowing when the kid seemed to sigh, and turn to the mess of metal and tiny ropes in their lap before taking the thick, tool-like stick in their hands and poking it at the mess every once in a while, their eyes trained intensely on the mess as they spoke. "I'll show you when he's fixed."

"It's broken?" he sounded put-off by the entire situation, but there wasn't many, if any at all, that would even accept the reality that there was a weird kid in their home covered in blood, with wings, and a strange broken Row-bot dog.

"Yeah," the kid nodded gently, glancing at him briefly before returning to their task. They didn't seem bothered by being shirtless. "There was damage done to his skeleton and speakers, but I'm sure it will only take a few minutes to fix.. he viruses will take longer to fix, though-"

"It's _sick_ ," he sounded perturbed, now, but the look they sent him had him pausing, she looked annoyed, " _Viruses_ meaning he has problems with his functioning," she sent him a grimace, with he promptly returned, "He's not sick, he has physical things that I need to.. You know what, you don't even know what a _toaster_ is."

"What's a toaster..?" he raised an eyebrow, and the brat groaned, causing his eye to witch when they only shook their head, before returning to their task, this time, ignoring him, as he clenched the rag in and out of the water, unable to really do anything without having to go near them.

"Ren," the child spoke gently toward their lap, and he realize they were speaking to the unloving corpse of a dog beneath them. He could only assume it was a corpse. It hadn't moved or made a sound at being dug at with stick. "Ren, please check your tail and rear leg functions for me."

He watched, silent and unmoving, as the tail lifted up, then down, and side to side. The dog lifted in the back, first on one side, then the other, the sound of soft gears moving together, before they settled back silently into the kid's lap.

"Thank you," the kid smiled, and as much as he wanted to call it a girly smile, it looked too relieved, "I think the issue is mainly in your speakers. The central core processor is already fixed, but I'll need you to keep from trying to use your speaker while I do this unless I tell you test it, alright?"

The dog nodded.

Levi merely settled against the wall in front of the kid, the blood was, he was done questioning this shit, _steaming_ off of their body, disappearing into the air as if it were never there at all. _So much for the new water._

He began idly running a kerchief along the tools he'd used to cauterize and sew the brat's wound, despite the blood having disappeared from the entire room after nearly ten minutes. Farlan delicately reentering the room earlier to perch at his side near Isabel, the only indication of there ever being a wound was the floating line of stitches that hung suspended midair behind the shirtless child. The two conscious male's watched the child placed the rectangular square of half-metal half-fur piece back into place on the dogs back, before lifting it up higher into his lap, turning it to face him as he brought to tool to the dogs mouth.

The dog complied silently, completely at ease to having the shocking, sparking tool in between its jaws, unmoving and compliant as the onlookers stayed silent.

* * *

It was another ten minutes before she'd finished the speakers, sighing in relief, lifting an arm and wiping the sweat from her brow, before pealing the gloves from her hands, "That should be it.. Just try not to use it yet, I want to make sure it's cool enough from the electrical currents."

"So you gonna tell us what you are or do we throw you out first?" The raven across from her intoned coolly. Natasha sent him an equally monotone expression, her fingers tangling into the dogs fur as she comfortingly pet between his ears, "Clearly I'm an angel."

"Bullshit." the raven muttered, "What are you, some type of science experiment? Angels don't exist."

"Neither should giant humanoid monsters that eat just for the hell of it," the kid seemed to roll their eyes, before glaring a him, "But that doesn't change the fact that there are titans.."

Levi glared at her sharply, and she retraced her steps, taking a deep, calming breath, before giving him a calmer expression, her tone more relaxing as she will her _Scrap_ to lace her tone. She didn't need him mad. "Alright. What shall I do to prove I'm an angel?"

"What can angels do?" Farlan was the first to crack, obviously, since Levi was hell-bent on glaring at her.

"Anything," the kid sent him a slight smile, but it was much sweeter than the earlier, snarky ones, "Are you hungry?"

The male's exchanged looks, before returning her, watching as she set the dog onto the floor beside her, petting it's head gently one more time before turning back to the boys. "What's your favorite food?"

They stayed quiet watching her warily and in tense silence before the female beside them began to stir, mumbling something about bread and Farlan before she jolted awake with a splutter.

Farlan put a steadying hand on her shoulder, and her eyes darted around them quickly, before settling on the kid, who, sitting silently, was watching her with a calm expression. She squealed slightly, reeling back slightly and staring.

"What is your favorite food?" the child asked suddenly, and she tensed, swallowing slightly before glancing to her brothers. They seemed to be having a silent conversation, and she hesitated, before turning back to the kid, her eyes narrowed, "B.. Beef stew..?"

"Would you like some?" the kid asked gently, a soft, pleased smile on their face. There was something about their face that calmed her, the soft golden eyes almost completely calming her panic as she furrowed her eye brows. "I guess..?"

The kid glanced to Isabel's brothers, before lifting a hand toward them, fingers brushing together gently, before they snapped, the loud popping sound brief, and quick. What she wasn't prepared for was the sudden, large assortment of foods on a red, silk cloth beneath them, placed on urban wooden dishes, and glasses of what she assumed was milk next to each placement. She jolted back with a shout, Farlan in a similar state while Levi merely inhaled sharply.

They hit the wall with a thud, but the child seemed unperturbed, gesturing toward the dishes with a calm, peaceful expression. "There is chucked beef stew, french risen bread, garlic butter, warmed, of course, green and limba beans, grapes, apples, and watermelon, as well as mashed potatoes, and gravy. I also put a pumpkin pie in for the hell of it, as well as some chilled whip cream for the topping. If there's anything else you'd like to eat, just say so."

* * *

Levi didn't know how to respond to this.

 _Surely he'd fallen asleep while waiting up for his siblings._

 _This wasn't really happening._

However.. if he was going to torture himself with this dream...

He reached forward, plucking an apple from the small pyramid of rare fruits, eyeing the large, shining delicacy before wiping it on his shirt, and taking a large, dripping bite.

He almost pulled back from the sudden juice on his chin, but thought better of it, using his tongue to clear away the sweet excess before sending the kid a look of curious acceptance, "Alright. I'll humor you."

 _Well._

Natasha eyed him incredulously.

 _It couldn't be_ that _easy..._

 ** _He actually looks kind of hot, like that, though..._**

She smacked the whispering "guardian", throwing them back into the upholstered bedroom before resealing it and sighing. She was getting kind of peckish herself.

He took another bite, and his siblings hesitantly started to eat the food, the child just watching the eldest with a look of dumbfounded surprise. It kind of unnerved them.

"Thank.. you..?" the kid lifted an eyebrow, clearly confused, before they seemed to shake their head, and snapped their fingers, the humans tensing in surprise, but only watching when a shirt materialized the child, covering them in a sweater of bright purple, rather than the grey they had earlier. a scarf seemed to wrap out of their neck in mid air, curling gently around their lower face and nearly all of their shoulders were swallowed into the fabric. It looked a bit strange, made of tan thread, with delicate designs on the outside of it in a semblance of a type of braid.

All the while, they remained slowly eating.

Isabel seemed much more enthralled with the strange food when the kid finally joined them, biting their own piece of bread with a sort of reverence and relaxing on the floor.

Levi sipped his stew carefully, letting the savory meat fill his senses, trying to remember the last time he'd had any sort of meat with his siblings in reality. _Oh well_.. for now, he'd enjoy his dream.

Isabel's cup was empty, but when she'd slowly sat it down, the child leaned over the makeshift table, much to her tense surprise, and passed their hand over the cup, white liquid suddenly at the top and waiting to be drunk.

Isabel blinked her ocean green eyes at the kid, stunned, before vaulting across the table.

The kid cried out, their back hitting the floor with a slightly pained grunt as the woman started _hugging her.. Oh god.._

"Thank you-!"

Natasha blinked stunned, as she let the red-head smother her, "It's.. It's fine.. Farlan's sister..."

She knew the girl's name, but _fuck_ if she was going to ruin this.

"I'm Isabel," the girl finally pulled back, and Natasha could see the fat teardrops in her eyes, unconsciously reaching up to wipe them away. The elder woman flinched in surprise, green eyes wide, but Natasha ignored it, sending her a small, sweet smile, "It's nice to meet you, Isabel. My name is Natasha and that guy over there-" she pointed to the dog sitting obediently at the end of the table spread, clearly content with not moving a muscle, (much to Levi's internal discomfort and Farlan's outer discomfort) "-is named Ren. He's my robot. He can think for himself, speak, give directions, and memorize almost anything."

"Huh?" she seemed confused, so Natasha smiled gently, patting her carefully before extracting herself from the red-head, and crawling over to the small blue dog, nearly the size of her lower legs.

"Ren," Natasha smiled, picking him up to cradle him in her chest and turning him to face the three, taking her seat at the table and setting him in a similar position in her lap, tummy out while she held his paws in a mock wave. "Why don't you introduce yourself? You have my permission to test your speakers."

The three exchanged a quick glance, but it was cut off my the new, low, manly voice in he room.

 _Originating from the small, cutsy-like dog_.

"My speakers seem to be fully operational, Natasha. Thank you."

"AAH-!" Farlan reeled back this time, Isabel squeaking before scrambling to her spot beside Farlan, both looking ready to pass out, Isabel for the second time.

"Easy," Natasha lifted her hand in a gesture to relax, her voice soft and soothing, "Ren, please explain."

* * *

 **ANGEL FILES**

 _File #3_

 _LANGUAGE_

 _Angels are able to speak any language available to any human, origination, primarily, from being able to piece together a soul's thoughts or intentions._

 _'All languages' includes, but is not limited to; Original dialects, Branching languages, word ticks, languages between animals, language between spirits, and the language between plants.._

 _Angels are not fully capable to understand all languages without completing the necessary rite of passage._

 _The intended rite of passage for languages is able to be overlooked by a superior officer for a particular angel if a divine purpose is assigned, or if they have earned the rite to overlook it._


	4. Chapter 4

It was amazing what a bit of food (a lo of food) and milk (as will as alcohol) could do to lighten the atmosphere. Sure, they'd freaked out incredibly about Ren's entire existence, but after trying to get the point across that there were a shit-ton of weird things angels did elsewhere, they became pretty accepting.

She was half tempted to ask if they thought they were dreaming..

Wouldn't be the be the first time..

*cough*Koujaku*cough*

She was tucked int the bed next to Isabel. Bed being a nice term for the thin tatami-like mat and woolen blanket big enough for three.

She had a bit of an issue with it, but planned to rectify it once they were asleep...

Can anyone say silk..?

Farlan was passed out on her other side, snoring slightly as he lied out on the floor. Isabel had a small line of drool at the corner of her mouth, but she looked content. Sitting up slowly, as not t disturb the stitches, the child sighed, angry that she couldn't retract the wings until they were free of stitches..

Unfortunately, that meant they had to heal, first.

She chanced a glance to the space beside Farlan, eyebrows raising at the sight of the empty space.

then, the thought hit her, and she physically facepalmed.

 _Three hours of sleep._

 ** _Three minute combat showers.._**

 _Can you **not** be perverted, for like, five minutes..?_

Natasha sealed the entity away with a sigh, annoyed for the weak bonds, and shook her head. she slipped out from beneath the cover, carefully treading across the floor until she grasped her messenger bag from he corner. Ren was still tucked in his blanket-turned-bed in the corner, (they weren't really comfortable near him) but she had no intention of waking him, so she merely pressed sleep mode on his collar and helped him into her bag.

Chancing a glance toward the sleeping duo, she sighed, annoyed by he conditions, clicked her fingers, smirk painting itself on her face as a ten by twelve bed stretched out along the wall, the two, numb-to-the-world humans K.O. while they snuggled into blood red sheets and large, downy pillows of various thickness.

She mentally made a few more adjustments to the frame, making it a more black cast-iron head and foot board so it would be less likely to rot like wood or break like thin metal.

After a few minutes of whiling away the headache, the child sighed, slipping out of the room and moving to exit the apartment.

She had to find Arrow and chew his ass out.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out, obviously," the child rolled their eyes, craning their eyes back to the raven haired male who leaned casually against the stone wall. She didn't have time for this, "I made you all a bed," she spoke instead before he could comment on her sass, "There's two changes of sheets in a weather resistant box beneath it. There is a trunk of wear-and-ear resisting clothes in the trunk at the foot of the bed, which is, b the way, almost impossible to damage, but easy to clean-" his eyes were trained on her sharply, but she continued without a pause, "I also put a cabinet in the corner with a large variety of fruits and meats. So long as you keep the corresponding drawer shut, nothing will ever go bad. I replaced the curtains and the rug, and there is a renewal of your cleaning products as well as new supplies you should be introduced to- the directions were translated into French for you to read."

"How do you know I speak French?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the child in obvious ire. They could be lying, trying to get all of their hopes up only to-

"Rivialle, right? Your name is Levi."

He hadn't said his name.

He narrowed his eyes lower to the child, but they merely sent him a smile, tilting her head before giving him a strange sort of salute, putting their hand out over their forehead, palm down, their grin chipper, "Till we meet again."

* * *

 **ANGEL FILES**

 _File #4_

 _TRAVEL_

 _Any angel gifted with the ability to_ Travel _will have occasional "Jumps" in which they are not scheduled, but react rather as "Pit stops" in order for the intended_ Traveler _to either gain an experience, or simply by accident. There is no rhyme, reason or pattern to these hiccups, but they have been recorded to be entirely random and coincide with a belief that they serve to warn of a deeper purpose or forewarning._

 _This has not been proven by the ARF (Angelic Research Facility) But it is currently undergoing further investigation._


End file.
